


Oh.

by nausicaa_lives



Category: The Breakfast Club (1985)
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 10:04:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17937734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nausicaa_lives/pseuds/nausicaa_lives
Summary: Just two delinquents smoking up in an off-limits parking lot.





	Oh.

**Author's Note:**

> Could be read as an indirect sequel to [Wednesday and Thursday](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17049611) but stands alone.

No more breath to blow out, Brian holds his mouth in the 'O' shape for the feel of it, lips held rigid as the ghost of warmth disappears. Four perfect pot-smoke circles move away from him and rise up over the Shermer High teacher's parking lot horizon before dissipating.

“Bender,” he says, still not moving his mouth, so it comes out like “eh-uhh.”

“eh?” Bender answers, the syllable short and hard. He’s done with weed and is sucking on menthol, not holding his face any particular kind of way. Grunted vowel-sounds are just how he talks sometimes.

“ih-ih ahh ih uuuhks eh uhuhs ohihuu?” Brian asks. He really wants to know.

”What the fuck are you saying?” Bender asks, but Brian can tell from his voice that he's not really bothered. Bender looks over at him, leaning kind of sprawled-like against the hood of a car that might be Mrs. Wallace’s, and Brian can tell he is not impressed by Brian’s impeccable facial positioning. A facial positioning, Brian reflects proudly, discovered through weeks of trial and error and developed to deliver a perfect ring with near 100% accuracy. Perfect ‘O’s moving through the sky. Like little spectral Cheerios. Coming out of his face—his 'O'-face. God, that’s good, Brian can’t help but break his position for that one, he has to give that one a laugh. Something shoves at him from the side.

“Wha?”

Bender reaches out, grabs the smoked-down joint from Brian's hand, and snuffs it out on his jeans before flicking it. It lands a few feet away, where Brian can still see it. 

“What are you saying, doofus?” Oh, oh yeah! This is important.

“Is this what it looks like when someone blows you?” He makes his lips do it again, briefly, to illustrate.  
Bender raises his eyebrows high like the sky. High like Brian is right now. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he says, looking straight into Brain’s eyes.

“Well, yeah,” Brian says, “Duh.” He looks back up at the clouds. “Do you think I’ll die a virgin?” he asks, still smiling. This is the kind of question that normally might get him down, but he’s doing alright at the moment. He's A-ok.

“Maybe,” Bender says, but he’s smiling too when he says it, so Brian knows that they’re good. They’re so good. They don’t need to do anything when they’re out here, Brian doesn’t need to do anything. And he thought that Bender was just letting him hang-on, but Brian’s realizing, see, that Bender doesn’t do things he doesn’t want to do if he doesn’t have to, so he must really not mind hanging out with a brain like him much at all.

And Bender doesn’t even make him pay for it, the marijuana that is, though Brian has stopped calling it that since Bender gave him so much flack the first time. The first time out here in the lot behind the Cafeteria, not in the library, when everyone had fooled him, for a couple hours, into thinking they could all understand each other, that they weren’t so different after all. Stupid.

Now he feels sort of bad, which sucks because he really was feeling all kinds of alright a second ago. It really sucks.

Ha, sucks. That brings him back around to blowjobs, which brings him back to Bender, who must've had a lot of them, and he relaxes because, yeah, the others don’t care about him, but he and Bender are good. Ever since March they’ve been doing this, and it’s nearly the end of April now. That’s, like, a long time. That’s so good that Bender thinks a little Star Wars opening music is appropriate.

“Da-da-da dah-daaahhh, da-da-da daah-daaahhh—” he's interrupted by a vaguely beleaguered groan. 

“God, not again. Not Star Wars again.”

Brian doesn’t mind. He switches to Islands in the Stream. His sister got the Eyes that See in the Dark for christmas and has played it nonstop since. Brian complains, but he actually kind of likes this one, and Bender hasn’t cut him off or punched his teeth in yet, so why not?

He’s at Dolly’s third rely on each other, ah-ah, when Bender interrupts, “it was an offer, you know.”

“Huh?” Bender grabs Brain’s face and jerks it toward him so, after a blur of sky and trees and asphalt, Brian’s eyes line up with his again. “Hey!”

“When I asked if you’d like to know.” Bender pauses. “It was an offer. Would you?”

Bender's grip is gone, but Brian keeps his head held at the slightly unnatural tilt it was tugged into. Bender’s eyes seem big at this angle, open, in a way they don't usually. It occurs to Brian that if someone were to draw a line from Bender’s pupils to his pupils, it would be a short, straight line. This seems really astute right now, in that hazy, familiar way that suggests it isn’t really. “If someone were to draw a line from your pupils to mine right now, it’d be a perfectly straight line. Because we’re looking right at each other,” he says.  
Bender rolls his eyes and turns to look at the distance again. “Whatever, dork.” But wait a second—

“Wait just a second!” he says, and he thinks he sounds a bit like Columbo, so he tacks on, “just one more thing!” even though it doesn’t really fit. “Yes, I would like to take you up on your offer.” There’s a longish pause that means Bender isn’t crazy about his Columbo and also something else, something that Brian is too stoned to really pick up on except that Bender’s pausing for a good long while, and God, is he really gonna get his dick sucked?

“Yeah?” Bender asks, looking at him again. Wow. Bender might actually do it. He might put Brian’s dick in his mouth. In his mouth! Oh, God, now he’s looking at Bender’s lips and they look really, really soft, and they’re pulling up into a smirk as Bender catches him looking. Brian feels like the wind got knocked out of him, but in a decidedly positive way.

“Yeah,” he says.

And then Bender’s reaching over and there goes his button, and there goes his fly, Bender’s sliding off the car and getting down on his knees like a pin-up and Brian is aware that they’re in the teacher’s parking lot on his fifth period break, when he used to have shop, but he’s floating and he might not die a virgin after all, and they’re kind of hidden in the rows of cars anyway, so he can’t find it within himself to protest, not even a little so he can say he did later.

Instead, he leans against the blue Honda Civic and waits, afraid to move an inch incase this is one big joke, until the chilliness of newly exposed skin becomes nigh-unbearable heat and wetness.

“Wow,” he says to absolutely no one, looking out at the empty parking lot. He doesn’t think he can look down without blowing it. Without, you know, blowing his load, he thinks, the lewdness that he’s heard geeks and jocks alike chuckle over for years but now all of a sudden it means something, blowing his load in Bender’s mouth, just coming all over—and Bender’s moving now, there’s suction involved, his tongue is stuck to the underside of Brian’s dick like a tongue to a flagpole in December, imagery that Brian didn’t think was hot until now, when it does cause it’s relating to someone’s mouth on him there.

He’s gotta look down, he has to, and when he does there are those eyes, looking up at him, knowing. Knowing how good it is when bobs his head faster, knowing that Brian doesn’t even know what he’s asking for when he groans, “Please,” and giving it to him anyway. He really won’t last, but Bender wouldn’t expect him to, anyway. And once Brian focuses in on Bender’s throat and sees Bender’s adam’s apple move as he swallows, that’s it, he’s coming, and he can barely process when Bender pulls off and jerks him with his hand, it’s just plain good. It's just so plain good.

He comes back to himself staring at white goo on asphalt. Bender’s zipped him up, and they’re both standing there, silently. Bender’s looking out and he doesn’t look happy, but he doesn’t look unhappy either. Brain knows it would be good manners to offer, but he doesn’t know how he feels about putting Bender’s penis in his mouth, and since Bender doesn’t say anything, or, like, push his head down there, Brian figures it’s alright to not do it.

“Thanks,” he says.

“No problem,” says Bender. And that seems to be that. 


End file.
